


Strawberry Ice Cream

by BloodFrost



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), kylux - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Armitage Hux - Freeform, Ben Solo - Freeform, Boys Kissing, Brendol Hux - Freeform, Captain Phasma, Chewbacca as a dog, Coming Out, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual kylux, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Kylux, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay, Gay Male Character, General Hux - Freeform, Han Solo - Freeform, High School, Kissing, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren as Ben Solo, Kylux - Freeform, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Leia organa - Freeform, Love, Love Confessions, Luke Skywalker - Freeform, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV Ben Solo, POV Kylo Ren, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Secret Crush, Sexual exploration, Short Story, Soft Kylux, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015) - Freeform, Young Ben Solo, new relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 01:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11887404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodFrost/pseuds/BloodFrost
Summary: Ben Solo is a typical 16 year old boy. He goes to school during the day, and afternoons he works at his part-time job at the local pet store.He doesn't have many friends, although he is far from lonely as he hangs out constantly with his one best friend, a girl named Lenore Phasma.Everything in Ben's life would be wonderful if it wasn't for just one tiny thing: his Supervisor at work, annoying redhead and member of the rival high school: Armitage Hux.Hux gets on Ben's nerves to no end, nagging him about even the most arbitrary parts of his relatively simple job.But one day, a chance encounter outside of work sparks the beginning of a tentative friendship, and the two find out that they have just a tad more in common with one another than they'd realized.





	1. Chapter 1

Rules of the Bed:

1\. No Drooling  
2\. No Snoring  
3\. No Twitching  
4\. No Kicking  
5\. No Pillow Stealing  
6\. No Blanket Hogging  
7\. No Sleep Talking  
8\. No Sleep Walking  
9\. No Dreams Of Ex-Lovers  
10\. No Morning Breath

That sign has been hanging on the wall behind my bed for the past 6 months. My mom found it at a garage sale and decided to tack it up there, to 'surprise' me one day while I was at school.

I don't hate the thing, but I don't love it, either.

Most mornings when I wake up I can look up and read it upside-down from my pillow. The sign itself is olive green, with white bubble-letters. Around the top and bottom borders of the sign are rows of  
black Z's, I guess to represent sleep.

But seriously, I've never heard anyone make a damn "Z" sound when they sleep. If I ever did, I think I'd send that person to the hospital.

I forced myself out of bed and made myself get dressed for school, even though I didn't really see the point in going. It was a half-day, and God knows that no teacher assigns anything super  
important on half days, because a lot of the kids just don't show up.

I would have just skipped, too, only mom was home, and I knew she'd nag at me about missing school. Plus I had work after school anyways, and my manager gave me an earlier start time when I told her that I had a half day. Which is good; I'm trying really hard to save up for a car.

So I went downstairs, grabbed one of those two-packs of mini muffins, and headed for the bus.

I really dislike taking the city bus. The drivers always hit every pothole possible, and I swear I always end up sitting next to some weirdo with bad B.O.

Sitting at the very back of the bus is the best bet for having an uninterrupted ride, because it's open seating and not the two-people seats that are in the front of the bus. More space, and, unless  
the bus is super-super crowded, less chance of having to be close enough to someone to sit on their  
lap.

It used to be that wearing earbuds was the universal sign for "Don't talk to me", but I think that's not the case anymore. Even with my headphones in, and the music turned up as loud as it can go, I STILL have crazies tapping me on the shoulder to talk or ask questions.

Once I got to school, the day went by fairly quickly. After the last shortened period, I left, got back on the bus, went home to change into my uniform, on the bus one more time, then finally to work. 

I work at Soggy Doggy, which is like a combination pet store/grooming salon. Personally I think the name is fucking stupid: who wants to be reminded of a wet dog?! But I guess no one else feels  
like that. We get a fair amount of business during the daytime (so I'm told; by the time I normally get there after school, it's really slow), and a lot on weekends, when I'm there almost all day on Saturday, and half the day on Sundays.

When I first started, I was hired as a cashier, which I hated. People can be ridiculously picky when it comes to buying weird shit for  
their pets, and some people (especially old people who have  
nothing better to do) will just hang around a register all day long to whine and complain.

And that's hard for me, to shut my mouth and not say anything when shit bothers me. I've got the dangerous temper that comes from my mom's side of the family, after  
all.

Eventually I convinced the manager to let me go to stocking and animal maintenance, only having to cashier when one of them needs a break or a lunch.

I love working with the animals; or, I guess I should say, I love working with the _dogs_. The dogs are always really happy to see me when I come over to feed them and clean the cages. They probably like me because they smell my own dog on me, so they know that I'm an actual dog-lover  
myself.

It's hard not getting attached to the dogs. In my head I name them, and when no one else is around, I have full-on conversations with them while I'm feeding or cleaning the cages. I can legit see myself as being a dude who'll live out in the middle of nowhere, and instead of kids I'll just have a bunch of dogs running around the yard.

The other animals, well, it's not as fun to be around them.

I've been pecked by the birds, my fingers bit by hamsters, and clawed at by cats. Once I even had my hand humped by a particularly horny, confused rabbit. And I've had bad luck with other things.

Once, back around when I first started, I had to scoop a bagful of crickets out of the see-through bin for a customer, for her tarantula. When I was done I forgot to put the lid back in place, and a shit-ton of those little bastards jumped out and went all over the store.

I was lucky in that it was the manager's day off, and we caught most of the crickets. Otherwise they probably would have fired my  
ass.

By the time I got there, it was fairly slow, with only a few customers walking around here and there. Linda was behind the register, and Tony was stocking cans of food in a display by the back of the store.

I clocked in and read over my assignments for the day. For once I actually had a pretty easy shift; the only thing written for me to do was clean the dog and cats pens, refill the food and water, and change the  
bedding.

We have about 30 dogs and cats altogether at the moment. There's the window display where the puppies sleep, and the glass enclosures where the older animals play and eat and sit on display for  
potential customers. Cleaning out all of those things, and changing the food, takes a while. But if I work at a steady pace I can get it all done before my shift is over, and, for the most part, I don't have to interact with other humans while I do it, which I like.

Well, ALMOST no other humans.

I was cleaning out the display cage of "Tarkin", an older yellow lab,  
when I felt someone come up behind me and stand there, watching me.

I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

Armitage Hux, or just simply Hux, is one of the supervisors of the store. He'd been working here for almost a whole year before I got hired, and I swear it's like ever since that day,  
he's tried to make a second career just from annoying the shit out of me.

Or maybe I'm being unfair, here.

He annoys the shit out of EVERYONE; a real equal opportunity kind of guy.

"Ben," he was saying to me, "Don't forget, when you clean the animals cages, you have to hook them onto the cage, so they don't get loose."

I rolled my eyes, since my back was to him and he couldn't see it. I KNOW about the hooking thing, I'm not an idiot. But "Tarkin" is such a gentle, calm dog that he'll just sit there while I work, and I can trust  
him not to run away from me. Hux would KNOW that, if he spent any real time with these animals  
himself.

I think I said something like "Fine"; only I'm not sure. When Hux  
talks, it's like listening to nails screech on a chalkboard. I try to tune him out and pick up only the  
important shit out of all the things he says, but God, it's hard.

It honestly wouldn't be THAT bad, if it weren't for the nagging. It's like  
Hux seems to think that nobody can get shit done correctly except for HIM, so he's constantly on everyone's ass about the 'right' way to do things. Which is  
bullshit, really, because he doesn't do things 'right'; he just does things the 'long' way, if that makes sense.

Like.

Like, changing the cage bedding.

He literally had a flow chart written up about how to take shit and pee-stained newspapers from the bottom of cages, put them in the  
garbage, and throw them away outside. 

WHY DO YOU NEED A FLOW  
CHART TO PICK UP PET SHIT?!

It's simple, you just fucking DO it. Slap on some of those horrible latex gloves and get to it.

That's probably the most crippling handicap I can think of, the inability to just DO stuff without having to over analyze every little detail  
about every little thing. I don't know if the boy has OCD, or what, but  
I'm pretty sure they make pills for  
whatever it is that has him going around like there's a stick up his ass.

Or maybe he likes that.

A while back, like a LONG while back, like when the one guy with the spiky hair was still working here, I heard a rumor that Hux was  
gay.

Which, I don't know, I can't really see that being the case.

Not that I have anything against gays. Gay, straight, lesbian, bisexual, whatever, it's all kind of the same thing. Find a hole, fuck it,  
come away happy. Same.

But like, I just can't see Hux being with anyone, period.

I can't even imagine him kissing another person, without running for the hand sanitizer or Lysol disinfectant.

On days I work the same hours as Hux, I prefer to spend as much time in the stock room as I can, when there's enough people out front so that I can get away with hiding a bit.

It's really interesting, to look up at the high shelves of pet food, blankets, collars, leashes, beds, medicines, shampoos- so  
many things. Are there REALLY that many pets in the world? Or, fuck the world, in this TOWN? 

Because the whole world doesn't buy stuff here, just the people who live close by. So do we really need cases and cases of this shit?

And some of it is so wasteful.

Each month we throw away  
entire pallets of expired food, and it's like, what was the point? What was the point of whoever sat in some hot sweaty factory making that stinky food, if all that was  
gonna happen, was it was going to get thrown out?

By the end of my shift I was tired, and annoyed because I had accidentally ripped a hole in the knee of my pants.

I was more than happy to get a text from Phasma, saying that she was nearby and would pick me up from work.

I clocked out and said goodnight to everyone, even Hux, although that was more perfunctory than genuine niceness, and walked outside to the big blue car that was waiting for me.

Lenore Phasma ((who prefers  
to be called, solely, Phasma, which honestly I can't blame her for)) has been my best friend since like 2nd  
grade. One day at recess this big fifth grader was picking on me, and Phasma came over and kicked that kid in the nuts. The kid started crying, and Phasma had to go home early with her parents.

Two days later, we met on the swings, and some boy called Phasma "nut kicker". He stepped in front of my swing and I hit him  
square in the chest with my feet, and knocked him over into the sawdust. 

Me and her have been friends ever since.

Lots of people say that you can't be best friends, or ANY kind of friends with a girl, if you're a boy, because the desire to fuck will get in the way. And yeah I guess that's true for some people, but not us.

Phasma's really pretty, but like, I could never see myself banging her.

How can you bang a girl that you once ate lightning bugs with, to "see if it'll make our stomachs glow", before your parents  
came outside and stopped you?

Or a guy who vomited all over your new white dress after the Christmas dance in middle school, because he stupidly let some guys get him tanked on ONE BEER behind the bleachers in the gym?

Yes, seriously, ONE beer.

"So how was work?", she asked me, messing with the old knobs on the radio. She was driving her ancient Ford Chevy, and half the  
things in the car didn't work right. The radio went in and out, the windows only rolled halfway down, and most of the time, the doors stuck. It was, in other words, a piece of shit.

But it was HER piece of shit, and she was proud of it.

That's what I've been saving a chunk of my paycheck for each week; to get a piece of shit of my own.

She's pretty generous about giving me rides when I need them, though. She'd pick me up for school in the morning if it weren't for her two brothers and sister, who she also takes to school each day. The two boys go to the one grade school, but the girl goes to preschool clear across town. By the time she could even get to me, we'd be late everyday, anyway.

"It was okay," I told her, and gave her a little microcosm of my day, ending with my usual rant about Hux and his annoying stupidity.

When I was finished, Phasma  
shook her head and laughed. "You're always complaining about that guy. Why don't you just, I  
don't know, arrange an 'accident' or something, so that he doesn't bug you anymore?"

"An accident? Like what?"

She turned on to my street and pulled into my driveway, before turning to me.

"I don't know, Ben. You work in the stockroom, don't you? Why not let a few shelves full of cans just 'accidentally' fall on him?"

I started to laugh, and shook my head. "Thanks, but that sounds a lot more like premeditated murder than a little 'accident'."

She shrugged. "Fine. But don't say I never tried to help you."

"Thanks. You wanna come in?"

"No, I gotta get back home; I promised mom I'd go to the grocery store for her."

I made a face. Grocery shopping is one of the most boring, torturous things in the world to me, and I decided I'd better hurry out of the  
car before she could ask me to go with her.

"Thanks for the ride, Phas," I said, as I leaned across the creaky leather seats to hug her.

I walked in the door, and right away Chewie, my fat brown husky, jumped up on me and licked my face.

"Okay, Chewie, okay! I missed you too!", I said, gently pushing him back to the floor.

Every time I come home, Chewie spends at least an hour following me around and sniffing at my feet and legs. I know he's smelling all the other animals on me, and I wonder if it makes him jealous.

I wanna tell him that I'm not cheating on him, that it's just business, but I doubt he'd understand me.

But then again, he might.


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday afternoon I was off work, for a change, so I decided to go to the mall.

Phasma was supposed to come  
with me, but at the last minute she got roped into babysitting, so I ended up going alone.

I was just standing up from  
my table at the food court, where I had to stop and get an ice cream, and was planning out which store to go to first.

I looked up, and was surprised to see Hux, of all people, standing by the McDonald's with what looked like an iced coffee in his hand.

This was the first time I ever saw him outside of work. He goes to the other high school, so I never see him at school.

And this was also the first time ever that I saw him out of the drab blue pet store uniform, and wearing some normal clothes.

He had on a pair of black skinny jeans, with a chain that extended from his front pocket to the back, obviously connected to a wallet. He had on one of those fake-faded white American Eagle hoodies,  
which I thought was weird, because it was like 100 degrees outside, definitely not hoodie weather. But then again, he was probably cold; the boy is unbelievably thin, and I hear  
skinny people get cold really easy. I'm skinny, too, but not THAT skinny. I also noticed that he was wearing a pair of hipster-thick black glasses. He must wear contacts at the store. The shoes caught my attention most of all: they were high topped Converses, black and white, with neon green  
laces. The green is what threw me off; I didn't think somebody as uptight as he acted would own ANYTHING not in the monochromatic scheme of black and white.

There was that painfully  
awkward moment that everyone has when they see someone in  
public that they work or go to school with,  but don't see anywhere else. That 'should I smile? Or should I wave? Or should I pretend I don't see him and keep  
walking?' moment.

In the end, I decided that he had made eye contact with me just a little too long to just brush it off, so I waved, just a little hand-raise,  
hoping he'd return the gesture and we'd go about our merry ways.

But I swear it's like the things I want to happen, never work out the way I  
intend.

Because instead of just giving me the dude-wave, he actually started walking over to me.

Goddammit.

"Hi," he said, when he got closer. "What are you doing here?"

I had to control myself to  
keep from rolling my eyes. It's a mall. I'm a teenager. Yesterday was payday. What the fuck else would I  
be doing here, except shopping?

Instead, I just said "Was thinking of going into Books-A-Million and seeing if they refilled their Guardians of the Galaxy Pint Size  
Heroes box yet."

He looked at me oddly. "What's a Pint Size Hero?"

"They're like really tiny versions of Funko Pops. I collect them."

"Oh," he said, and then: "What's a Funko Pop?"

. . . seriously?

Who on this green earth HASN'T heard of Funkos?

I took a few minutes to explain to him about the wonder, the glorious prestige of Funkos, but the only response I got from him was:

"So basically  
they're just little bobble-heads?

Unbelievable.

I turned to leave, thinking I had spent more than enough time with this obvious psychopath, when he called after me,

"Do you mind if I come  
with?"

I turned to look at him, trying very hard to keep the annoyed look off of my face. Wasn't it enough that I had to deal with him every afternoon at work? 

"If you want," I said, and turned back around, hoping that my fast walk would give him a hint that I really didn't want him to follow  
me.

But he didn't get it.

He caught up to me quicker than I expected, and for the first time I noticed that he was almost as tall as me. Had the same long legs.

When we got in Books-A-Million, I headed straight for the Funko section towards the left rear of the store. Hux looked around; I don't think he had ever been in here before, and headed over to the rows of New Release books in the  
center.

Picking Pint Size Heroes is a risky thing, because you go in blind. Literally, blind. They're wrapped up in these packages that don't let  
you see what's inside, until AFTER you open it. So you don't have any way of knowing whether you got something that you already had, until it's too late.

I already had Groot, Drax and masked Star-lord at home. I pulled 4 more little packs out of the box, hoping that I'd get some cool ones this time.

I also grabbed three Power  
Rangers Pint Size Heroes. THAT'S been an annoying thing to me for months, now. At home, I have Goldar, Alpha 5, Zordon, and 2 Red, 4 Green, 1 White, 1 Blue, and 2 Black Rangers. All this time, I haven't been able to find the  
two girl rangers, the Pink and Yellow ones. Or Rita Repulsa,  
for that matter. What's up with that? Do they just not exist, or does someone else just ALWAYS find them before me?

But I can't stop buying them, just the same. It's become a minor obsession with me, to complete that collection. 

Maybe I'M the one who has OCD.

I took my stuff up to the register, thinking that maybe I could hurry up and pay and then get lost in the crowd before Hux saw me again, but no such luck. He was suddenly right behind me as I pulled out  
my wallet; I have to give him credit, he moves almost like a ninja. Sneaky and silent.

"You're not getting anything?", I had to ask him, as I finished  
paying.

"No. I just get ideas for books to download on Kindle."

This time, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I hate shit like kindle, and the whole e-books movement. No matter what, there's nothing like the actual FEEL of a book in your hand. Scrolling down a screen  
just isn't the same thing.

But I guess I could understand why he'd pick something like that. Books were probably too 'messy' for someone like him. E-books  
can be contained in a nice, clean little screen.

Boring, but safe.

Kind of like Hux.

When we got outside of the  
store, Hux asked me if I wanted to go to go to Spencer's with him. I have to admit, THAT shocked me. There was no way someone as uptight as this boy actually shopped at a place like that.

As if reading my mind, he  
said that he didn't like the store, but one of his friends had a birthday coming up and she liked stuff like Spencer's had.

Another shock-- Hux had FRIENDS?

At any rate, I went with him, and found myself really enjoying how obviously uncomfortable he was in that place. I almost laughed myself  
sick when I saw his face when we got to the sex toy section; he looked like he was going to pass out or something. He literally jumped when I pressed the button on a display vibrator, and it started buzzing loudly in the corner.

He ended up getting her a bunch of things with Wonder Woman on it, explaining to me that she was obsessed with WW ever since she saw the movie.

All together, we went to about ten more little stores, browsing through clothes and music and random trinkets of things. It was funny, but the more time I spent with him, the less annoying he seemed to be getting.

Or maybe I was just being desensitized to the annoyingness.

When I had decided I was pretty much malled-out, I started to say goodbye to him, and turn away, when he said "Where are you  
going?"

"To the bus," I answered back, pointing to the exit I was heading towards. "The next one comes in like 4 minutes. I gotta hurry;  
the one after that doesn't come for almost an hour."

Hux shook his head and  
pulled a tangle of keys from his  
pocket.

"I'll give you a ride. Come on," he said, turning and heading for the  
nearer exit without even waiting to see if I'd follow him or not.

I did.

After all, a ride home saves me about $2 for the bus. I know $2 doesn't SEEM like a lot, but it is when you've gotta take the bus to  
and from school AND work each day. Every little extra bit helps.

The parking lot was almost  
empty by the time we made it out there. I looked at my phone: it was nearly 7pm. I couldn't believe it; I was thinking it was closer to 4 or 5.

Did I really just spend  
almost 6 hours at the mall--and with Hux, of all people?

Hux's car was a silver four-door Kia Optima, shining wildly in the setting  
sunlight. He must have gotten it washed before he came here.

"Nice car," I said, as we got in. The inside was spotlessly clean, of  
course. Even though there was nothing on my feet I almost  
had the urge to scrape my shoes on the pavement outside the  
car, so I wouldn't risk dirtying the floor mats in some way.

"It's not mine; it's my dad's," he said, as we buckled our seat  
belts.

"Where do you live?", he asked, and I had to really work to hold back my urge to laugh, as he programmed my address into the GPS. I mean, I'm sitting RIGHT HERE, Hux; I could just TELL  
you how to get to my house.

But okay, buddy, whatever makes you happy. Far be it from me to complain about a free ride--even if it IS with a weirdo.

It was quiet at first, and silence always makes me uncomfortable, so I thought of things to say to make conversation.

"You know, you're lucky. If my dad had a nice car like this, he'd never  
let me drive it. He doesn't even like letting me drive the car he _does_ have, and that's a hot piece of shit."

He kind of looked over at me and shrugged.

"He doesn't like to, when he's home. But when he's gone I can pretty much do what I want."

"Gone?"

"Yeah. He goes on business trips a lot. He's on one right now; won'tbe back until Wednesday night, I think."

"Your mom doesn't have a problem with you using the car?"

"She's dead, so no."

"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling bad. "I didn't know that."

He shrugged again, but didn't say anything. After awhile, I guess the quiet felt weird even to HIM, because he started asking me about my Funko collection.

So I told him about the different ones I collect from tv shows and movies, and the ones I still need to add to my collection. I ended with telling him about the Pint Size Heroes, and going into my rant about how I still couldn't find the two female Rangers.

I looked over at him, expecting him to be laughing at me or something. Me, a 16 year old boy obsessed with collecting these little bobbleheads and figurines.

But the look on his face was sober, and thoughtful. As if what I said wasn't strange at all, and was, in fact, interesting.

Looking at him, I also noticed for the first time all the freckles that spread in a wave over his face. I have moles on my own face, that I hate. They're small but they're everywhere, and they're black, like my hair and eyes. Mom says my moles give me 'character', but I can't say I agree with that. I despise them.

I wondered if Hux hated his freckles, too.

I thought about asking him this, but then abruptly changed gears and asked something else I was wondering.

"How come you don't wear those glasses at the store?"

He looked over at me again, his bright blue eyes magnified behind the thick lenses of the glass. "I wear contacts at the store because I see slightly better with them."

"So--does that mean you can't see that good right now?"

"I can see, just not the best."

"Oh my God; you mean I'm in a car with a basically blind person right now? Stop the car, let me out!", I mock-screamed, pretending like I was going to pull open the door handle.

He looked startled, as if he didn't quite know whether I was being serious or not. When he realized it was a joke, he actually started to laugh, and the sound of it filled up the car. His laugh was deep, and smooth. Nothing at all like his voice--or his personality.

We finally pulled up to my house, and I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly. If this were Phasma dropping me off, I'd invite her in. It's rude not to. But I wasn't sure whether to invite Hux in.

"Do you--do you want to come in?", I asked him, timidly. As a joke, I said, "I've got some premium cocaine in my room, if you want to come have a quick snort."

He started to laugh again, seeming as though he was getting more used to my sense of humor.

"That's okay, I'll pass. I should be getting home. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Thanks for the ride," I said; and he nodded as he pulled off.

\---

A few days later, I'm just finishing up unloading a pallet of food in the stock room. It's mostly cat food, which I hate. It's so stinky-strong that I can smell it even through the thick packaging they put it in.

Hux comes through the door and stands behind me, and I'm positive he's about to yell at me because I'm not wearing the bright green safety vest. I hate that thing; it's heavy and it makes me sweat harder than necessary.

So I turn around, preparing to hear the lecture I knew was coming, when Hux surprised me.

"Ben. I meant to catch you earlier, but you were unloading the truck. I have something for you."

He reached into his vest pocket and held something out to me, with a smile on his face.

In his palm was a little yellow figure.

I took it, and I couldn't believe it. I literally couldn't fucking believe it.

It was the yellow Power Ranger.

YELLOW.

One of my elusive girls.

"Where did you get this?" I asked him, turning the little thing around and around in my hand.

"FYE. I went in there last night to return something. I saw the box and thought about what you said about not getting the girls. So I thought, you know, maybe I'll get lucky. And I did."

"Hux--", I began, honestly at a loss for words. "This is really nice of you. Thanks."

He shrugged like it was no big deal.

"I have to go start setting up that clearance display for tomorrow. When you're done in here, can you come help me?"

"Sure," I said, and I stuck the little ranger in my pocket. "I'll be done in about twenty minutes or so."

Hux nodded and walked out, the door swinging shut behind him.

When he was gone, I couldn't resist pulling Trini out of my pocket one last time, to admire her.

She was beautiful.

Now I just need you, Kimberly, I thought to myself as I finished putting the last few pallet items on the shelf. The Pink Ranger, and my collection will finally be complete.


	3. Chapter 3

One thing I've learned over the years: never ever play any Mario-based video games with a competitive friend. That friend will crush you mercilessly, and then spend the next lifetime gloating about it.

At least, that's the case whenever I play video games with Phasma.

Both of us sitting were on my  
bed, eating and playing Dr. Mario, which is like this old game that's similar to Tetris, only instead of images of blocks you're matching colored pills to colored viruses.

It used to be that whenever mom saw that Phasma was over, and we went to my room, she would make us keep the door open. No matter what I tried to explain to her, she insisted.

Mom and dad each gave me their separate version of "the talk" when I was around 12. Mom's focused lots on emotional development, sexual maturity, and a lot of stuff that sounded like it came straight from a psychology textbook.

Dad's was basically "Stick to jerking off until you're at least 16, and after that, ALWAYS wear a condom, Benny."

Anyway, I argued with mom endlessly about how she's known Phasma and her family since we were in grade school together, she's been over here at least once a week every week since we were kids, and she had nothing to worry about.

But all she'd do was insist that things change between boys and girls when you get older, and like it or not, my door was staying open.

That stopped about three months ago.

Mom was home and Phasma was  
over, and we went to my room to play video games. I purposefully shut the door because I knew my mom would be creeping up the stairs to my room, to find some reason to come in and talk to me, then go back out again--sneakily  
leaving the door open.

We waited until we heard her steps at the top of the stairs, and then I signaled Phasma to start.

"Ooooh, god, Ben, it feels so good when you touch me there!", she had exclaimed, a bit over-dramatic for my taste, but still good. I swear even with the door closed I could hear my mother's footsteps stop dead in their tracks, and the  
sound of her gasping.

"Yeah, baby, but this isn't good enough. I want to have you all the way," I said back, also loudly (and probably just as poorly acted).

"Sounds good to me, Benny. Have you got any condoms?"

"Condoms?", I all but shouted. "We don't need any condoms; everybody knows you can't get pregnant when it's just the first time!"

At that point, Mom had literally shoved my door open so hard that several of my Funkos fell off of the shelf. I was laughing so hard that I  
couldn't breathe; I couldn't stop even as mom, completely red-faced, smacked me hard enough to leave a bruise on my arm the next day.

But the point is, after that day, the closed door was no longer an issue.

Which is nice, especially on days like this one where Phasma's beating my ass at Dr. Mario and my cursing is at reprimand-stage.

"So you hung out with him all day, huh?", she was asking me. It had been several days since my trip to the mall, but this was the  
first time I had hung out with her since then, except at school, and it hadn't come up then.

"Pretty much."

"You know I've gotta say that I don't like it, being so easily replaceable. Is this your new thing, now? Anal redheads?"

I laughed at that.

" That's a great name for a porn. And no it's not my 'thing'. A singular event. A _Solo_ experience, actually."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the bag of Doritos from the floor. "You just look for any excuse to pun on your last name, don't  
you?"

"What else am I gonna do with a name like that? I think when I'm 18 I'll change it."

"Oh, get the fuck out of here with that, Ben. Change it to what? Dickface?"

"Actually, I was thinking Ren."

She started to laugh, almost choking on the handful of Doritos in her mouth.

When she got herself under  
control, she said, still snickering, 

"So, you're going to run around calling yourself Ben Ren? Really?"

"Give me some credit, here. I'd change my first name too. To Kylo."

"Kylo Ren? Where in the hell did you come up with THAT?"

"Kylo is the male-sounding match to Kyla. Kyla is a cat that we had when I was like 4. It was a stray and mom took it in, but eventually we had to get rid of it again because it made my dad sneeze. And Ren because, I don't know, it sounds  
cool."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, but no matter what, you'll always  
be Ben to me."

I nodded. "I can accept that."

\---

One thing I like about work (other than the animals) are my coworkers. For the most part, they're all around my age, the 15-18 group, and fairly easy to get along with.

Our staff consists of maybe  
20 people, on and off, including normal workers, supervisors, and the two store managers. And this  
doesn't include the people who work in the grooming part, which is a separate entity from our store-part entirely. That group has maybe 10 people altogether, all older people, and how many there are working at any given time depends on the number of pets with appointments that day.

I think that, at OUR store, there's never any more than 6-7 people working at a time. Two cashiers, one or two stockers (depending on the day of the week), one supervisor, two miscellaneous/'floaters'.

I usually fall into that last category. In a single shift I can go from cashiering to stocking to cleaning the pet cages to building displays.  
Which I like; it makes each day less  
boring.

Normally I take my breaks and lunches sitting outside. There's a picnic table sitting around the back of the store, and I like to take  
whatever snacks I have out there and sit in the sun.

Days like today, though, when it's raining, I'm forced to go sit in what the store tries to pass off as a  
break-room.

The room is small, with two windows set up high near the ceiling. I know a lot of people  
think that yellow is a happy, cheerful color, but to me, this room looks like I'm sitting in an exploded box of expired mustard.

There's a couple of square tables with sketchy chairs sitting around them, a small fridge in the corner, and a tv mounted on a stand.

The tv thing would be cool if it got anything other than the local channels. As it is, I don't really feel like sitting and watching the news  
on my break.

When I walked back for my 30 minutes, I was surprised to see Hux sitting at one of the tables, alone, bent over some papers and muttering to himself.

I thought that maybe it was the schedule for the next week, and I'd been meaning to talk to him about my hours (which had been unpleasantly spotty as of late), so I thought, why not catch him while  
he's alone and make sure he's not fucking up next week for me, too.

When I got closer, though, I saw that it wasn't the schedule at all, but what kinda looked like -- homework?

That's weird, because I always forget that Hux is my age, and goes to school during the day like I do.

He didn't look up when I first walked in the room, and didn't even see me until I sat down across from him.

"Hey," I said, opening up my bag of M & M's, "What are you working on? Nuclear physics?"

He looked up from his papers, and I saw that he had his glasses on, not his contacts. He frowned like he didn't like me interrupting his train of thought, and said,

"No. Math. And this shit is hard, so I'd appreciate it if you stayed quiet  
while I'm doing this."

I had to grin at that. I don't think I had ever heard Hux curse before. It was odd, coming from him.

I was quiet for a few minutes, eating my candy and watching the news, or rather _reading_ the news, as he had turned the volume all the way down and put subtitles on.

After awhile I couldn't help myself and just had to ask "What kind of  
math?"

This time he looked up with  
a hard scowl, and I noticed the hand that held his calculator had clenched just the tiniest bit.

"Algebra 2," he said through gritted teeth.

I nodded, debating whether to end our conversation there, or keep messing with him.

"I took that last year," I couldn't help but brag, a little smug that  
I was actually ahead of him in  
something.

"Congratulations," he said, in that same tone of voice, before looking back down.

For some reason, I just could not leave him alone. I stood up from my chair, pretending that I was going to go to the fridge; but instead  
circled the little room and came to stand behind him, looking intently over his shoulder.

He tried his hardest to ignore me, but once I started loudly crunching my candy, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Ben!", he snapped, twisting around in his chair, "Would you  
please leave me alone? I have 10 more problems to get through, and I want to try and get most of them done before my lunch is over!"

I moved from standing over his shoulder, to taking the chair next to  
him.

"It would help if you were doing them the right way," I couldn't help but say; and before he could protest I took the pencil out of  
his hand, and correctly completed the equation he was working on.

"How did you do that?", he asked when I was done. He sounded amazed. "I've been stuck on that problem for 15 minutes now!"

So I explained to him how I worked through the problem, taking a sheet of scrap paper and carefully showing him my thought process.

He was leaning really close to me as I showed him, close enough so that I could feel his breath on my arm, and smell the sweet, sharp scent of whatever shampoo he used in his hair. It made me feel--strange. Not quite uncomfortable, but strange.

So when I was done, I got up and walked across the room to the trash can, throwing my wrapper away.

"My break is about over," I said, heading towards the door.

He nodded, looking at me. His head was tilted slightly, as if he was thinking of something.

"Thanks for the help," he said. I nodded and turned to go, when he  
called out to me again, "Hey, Ben?"

I turned back around.

"Yeah?"

He looked down at his papers, and his words came out in a mumbled rush as he said "So I know you take the bus and all, but it's raining pretty hard. We get off about the same time today; do you want a ride? With me?"

"Sure. That's cool of you, thanks," I said, and he nodded and quickly  
looked back down at his papers. Was I imagining it, or had  
his cheeks gone just a tiny bit red, redder than normal?

Probably just imagining it.

\---

This time he just let me tell him how to get from the store to my house, without using that ridiculous GPS thingie. The voice on that is  
creepy, by the way. They should make it so that you can program your own voice into it. I'd rather take directions from myself than some skeevy robot.

When we pulled up to my house, I started to get out, then stopped.

"Is your dad like, expecting you back home?", I asked, not entirely sure WHY I was asking.

Hux shook his head. "He's in Japan, on business again."

Before I could question myself, I heard my mouth say "So why don't you come in for a while?"

When he didn't answer right away, I hurried on:

"I'm by myself for awhile, too. Mom doesn't get off work 'til 11, and  
dad's gone 'til like, Thursday. We can--order a pizza? Or something?"

It seemed like he was going to say no; but I barely had time to wonder why the thought of him saying no made my chest hurt a little, when he cut the engine with a smile.

"Okay."

We got out of the car and ran up the walk, as it was still raining pretty hard out.

As soon as I got the front door open, of course Chewie rushed up and nearly knocked me back outside with his over-enthusiastic face licking.

"Okay, okay, buddy, okay!", I exclaimed, a little embarrassed to have Hux see my huge dog behaving like a spoiled baby.

But he didn't seem to think anything was odd about it, at all.

When Chewie calmed down, I  
patted him and said "Chewie, this is Hux. Hux, this is my dog Chewbacca. Chewie for short."

"It's nice to meet you, Chewie," Hux said, just as if Chewie was another  
person. Chewie sniffed around Hux's pant legs cautiously, then he licked the hand that Hux held out, and went back into the living room.

I went into the kitchen and, after asking Hux what he liked on pizza (pepperoni, like me) found a menu and made the call. Then I led him  
through the living room and up the stairs to my room.

When I flipped on the lights, he stood in the doorway for a few seconds, looking around himself in awe.

I don't blame him.

Three of my four walls are covered from corner to corner in pictures, drawings, paintings, movie posters and postcards. The bed sits in the  
corner, across from my desk where I have my tv, laptop and  
video games. I have an old comfortable arm chair sitting at  
the end of my bed, facing towards the tv.

The shelf above my desk, and the dresser shelf, are filled to overflowing with Funko Pops and Pint Size Heroes. 

It was this that Hux seemed to be most fascinated with, moving around the room in a slow arc.

"When you said you collect these things, I didn't think your collection  
would be THIS extensive,"  
he said, before going to sit in the  
armchair.

"Impressive, right?"

"More like scary. I think maybe you need to be on an episode of  
Hoarders."

I rolled my eyes at that. 

"I WISH I had enough to be on Hoarders. But I still have a shit-ton more that I have to get."

He shook his head but didn't say anything. To fill some of the silence I put on my old stereo, picking up from where I last left off on my Linkin Park CD.

I was about to ask Hux if he liked old music like this, when he grinned and said "Hybrid Theory? Really?"

I looked at him, surprised.  
"You actually know what CD this  
is?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. Linkin Park used to be one of my favorite bands ever. Hybrid Theory and Reanimation are two of my favorite /albums/, ever."

That was weird. I've never met anyone else who could even tell me who Linkin Park WAS, much less the names of their oldest CD's.

We spent some time talking about our favorite songs from both albums, when I heard the doorbell  
ring, and ran downstairs for the  
pizza man.

On the way back up I grabbed two Cokes from the fridge, and a handful of napkins. I'm not a napkin person but I was fairly positive that   
Hux is one.

When I came back upstairs with the pizza, Hux had Meggie in his hand, my zombie girl bobblehead, and was looking at it intently.

"This one," he began, looking from it to the others on my shelf, "Is  
different from the others. It's not a-a Funko, is it?"

I shook my head no, putting  
the pizza down on the edge of my desk.

"My dad brought me that one, from some store in Lexington, Kentucky. He knows I collect "bobbleheads"; he just doesn't know it's pretty much exclusively Funko. But I liked this one, anyway. I named her Meggie."

"Why Meggie?"

"Because she looks kind of like a meth head version of Megan Fox; at least, I think she does."

He nodded with a smile on his face. "Now that you say that, I can kinda see it, too."

He took a piece of pizza from the box and began to eat slowly,  
methodically.

"Does your dad go away on business, too?," he asked, swallowing down a bite  
with his Coke.

"Sort of. He's a trucker; he's usually gone making hauls 4, sometimes 5  
days a week."

"So most of the time it's just you and your mom?"

"Pretty much."

We spent the next few hours eating, listening to music, and playing video games. Hux is  
nearly as competitive as Phasma; I'd love to get these two playing against each other, some day, to see who would win.

Around 10:30, he said, somewhat reluctantly, that he had better get  
going.

"If I don't make myself go to bed before midnight, then I can't get up at all the next day," he said when we were downstairs, standing by the front door as he pulled on his  
jacket.

"I know what you mean; I'm the same way."

He opened the door and we  
both paused for a minute, looking up at the sky. The rain had stopped and the moon was out, sitting low and full in the western skies, surrounded by fluffy scattering storm clouds where heat lightning was still tearing them up.

Hux looked back at me after a few moments, and smiled.

"This was fun, Ben. Even if you DO suck at Mario Kart," he added,  
joking.

"I'll get you next time, Gadget," I said, and found myself wondering if/when there would BE a 'next time'.

He just nodded and said "See you at work;" then trotted down the slick lawn to his car. I watched as he pulled away, then went back  
into the house, locking the door behind me.

When Hux left, I had that strange feeling again. I almost felt . . . sad, even though I had no _reason_ to feel sad.

Something was bothering me,  
something I had to really think about before I could put my  
finger on it--and then it hit me all at  
once.

That day a few weeks ago,  
when I had hung out with Hux at the mall, he'd told me his father was on a business trip. Today, he'd told me he was on another one.

Since his mother was dead, and he never mentioned any siblings or anything like that, I have to assume that when his dad goes away, Hux is just left in his house by himself. And he has to be completely  
responsible for himself, like eating and going to bed at a decent time and going to school an work.

I don't think I could be that mature, if left on my own like that.

I also I don't think I could handle being as LONELY as that sounded.

And I think that's what Hux is: lonely.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ok, give it some gas!", my dad called to me from behind the hood.

I turned the key in the ignition. The result was a little better than the last two times I had done that; now there was at least a sputtering sound.

"Okay, that's enough," dad said, sighing. He slammed the hood down and came around to my window, wiping his oily hands on a towel.

"I give up," he said, and playfully batted the towel into my face. I swiped it back at him and jumped out of the seat, shutting the door behind me.

It seemed as though any time my dad is home on the weekends, me and him spend at least half a Sunday trying to get his shitty old beater to start. 

When he can't get his car to run, he uses mom's; but I just don't understand why he doesn't buy a new one of his own. I'm fairly sure we could afford one. Not a brand new one, but a decent used one, that _runs_. But he just refuses to get rid of it.

Sometimes we get it running, but most of the time it's just a lot of cursing, sweating, and drinking.

Dad always lets me have one of his beers when we're having our auto-bonding time. It's okay, but if I'm being honest I'm just not much of an alcohol person. Coke or Mountain Dew have always been my go-to's, although last year my mom stopped buying Mountain Dew after she read something online about how it can lower a guy's sperm count.

Personally, I see nothing bad about that. I told my mom that I don't want kids, anyway, but she says I'm too young to make those kind of decisions. But I don't think that.

I think whatever they put into Mountain Dew to make the wigglies die up, they should increase the dosage, and then make it into a pill and sell it as male birth control. 

I mean, it'd probably be a LOT less painful than a vasectomy. Cheaper, too.

I followed dad into the house and sat down in the living room, where I had left my homework from earlier. Dad heated us both up a leftover meatball sandwich from Subway and brought it in, setting it on the table.

Whenever dad is home, I try and make it a point to spend some time outside of my room and sit in the living room or the kitchen, to be near him. He isn't much of a talker, and "feelings" are more my mother's area, but I know that he worries a lot that his being away so much has created a very weak bond between us.

I don't feel that way at all, although I used to when I was little. On the days he'd have to leave I'd cry and pout and throw a really bratty tantrum, which I'm ashamed to think of now. I grew out of that by the time I got to middle school, but I think my dad sometimes wonders if I ever grew out of that in my _mind_. So I do my best to reassure him, without having to use actual words, that I like when he's home, and enjoy spending time with him.

Even if I'm just sitting and doing homework while he watches baseball.

Even though I hate baseball.

And even though meatball subs always make my dad fart so bad that even Chewie goes running for the other room.

\---

Friday night, I agreed to stay an hour later than normal at work. I could use the extra money, and besides, it's not like I ever have any plans.

I was in the middle of re-stocking a wall of pet shampoo, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around, and was surprised to see Phasma standing behind me, with a big smile on her face.

"Hi, I was wondering if you could help me? I'm looking for a suitable small pet for a 4 year old girl," she said, pointing to a small child that was clutching her leg.

I laughed and shook my head. "Sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We don't allow children in here."

"You allow dogs, but not kids?"

"Yes, ma'am. Cleaner."

She giggled, and gave me a hug. 

"Dad told her she could get a new fish for our aquarium if she good at the dentist," Phasma explained. "So here we are."

I turned to her little sister and crouched down until I was eye level with her.

"Hi, Delia. Remember me? Ben?"

She nodded, still hiding behind Phasma's leg.

"Do you want me to take you to see the fishies?", I asked.

She stuck her head out a little farther.

"Yeah," she said shyly.

I held out my hand and she took it, and I led them over to the fish tanks. She immediately oohed and aahed over the colorful fish, and pressed her face against the glass.

"That one! That one! THAT one!", she squealed continuously, pointing to fish after fish.

"One, Delia. Dad said ONE."

After staring for another five minutes, she chose a small silvery fish with a bright orange and black-spotted tail.

"You're sure?", Phasma asked her patiently.

Delia nodded. "She's pretty!"

I grabbed the net and one of those clear plastic bags. It took awhile, but eventually I got the right fish out and secured in the watery bag. I handed it to Delia and she held it close to her face, fascinated.

"Do you want another one?" I asked Phasma, low, so that Delia wouldn't hear. "The guppies are buy one, get one free all this month."

"I guess my dad wouldn't mind that, so long as one is free anyway," she said.

She took the bag from Delia and said "Pick out another one, Delly. One with a tail like this one."

"Really?", the girl exclaimed, excited. "Why?"

"Because this one needs a friend so she's not lonely."

We stood there a few more minutes while the girl picked out another guppy, this one with a yellow tail, before I walked the two of them up to the register.

"Thanks, Ben," Phasma said, hugging me again. "You wanna come hang out when you get off? I'll pick you up."

"Sure," I said, smiling. "Netflix and chill?"

She punched me, hard, on the shoulder. "Netflix and chilli, maybe."

"Works for me."

I looked up and saw that Hux was standing in the doorway to the stockroom, watching me talk to Phasma. I figured he must be annoyed that I was spending so much time with one customer when I should have been almost done with my stocking.

I quickly said bye to Phasma and Delia, reminding Phasma what time I got off, before turning and going back to my wall.

I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting Hux to come over any second and start lecturing me about wasting time; but he never came. I finished my task pretty fast after that, and cleaned up my area before heading to the back to take my final break.

I had been sitting at the corner table for a few minutes, my head resting in my arms, before the sound of the seat opposite me being jarred caught my attention.

"Hey, Ben," he said, sitting down with a stack of papers and a small laptop. It was Hux, of course. Judging by all the names written on his papers, I guessed that he was going to start writing out the schedules for next week.

"Mind if I sit here?", he asked. I just shook my head no and put my head back down.

After a few minutes of quiet, he asked "What's wrong with you? You need an aspirin or something?"

I sat up straighter and looked at him. He was staring at me with what seemed like an anxious expression on his face, and seeing his concern made me feel a little funny.

"No. Just tired, that's all."

"Oh," he said, looking back at his papers. "Well, cheer up; you've only got like, an hour and a half to go."

I nodded again, then got up to get the Mountain Dew I'd stashed in the fridge earlier in the evening. As I sat back down, he looked st me again.

"You shouldn't drink that, you know. Studies say that --"

" -- that this can lower sperm count. I know, I know, I've been hearing that from my mom for like, a year now," I said, taking a big swallow. "But I don't really _want_ kids, so . . ."

"That's a shame, Ben. Won't your girlfriend be disappointed to hear that?"

Now it was my turn to stare at him.

"My **what**?!"

"That girl, the tall blonde who was just in here; wasn't that your girlfriend?"

I couldn't help but snicker at that.

"Why?"

"I don't know, she just seemed kind of touchy-feely with you. And isn't that the same girl that's in all those pictures in your room?"

I nodded. "Yeah, she is. Her names Lenore Phasma, but I just call her Phasma. But she's not my girlfriend, she's just my best friend. Really more like my sister, actually."

"Oh," he said, and he quickly looked back down at the schedules he was writing out. For some reason, he seemed almost embarrassed that he had asked me that. Embarrassed--but also relieved.

"Do _you_ have a girlfriend?", I asked. I hadn't meant to ask that but it was like the question was jerked right out of me. 

And, for some reason, I suddenly felt very anxious, as I waited for his answer.

"Nope," he said, not looking up. He tried to make his answer sound casual but his cheeks and the back of his neck had turned a dark red.

Seeing his reaction made me think back to that old rumor, the possibility of Hux being gay. But that was something I wouldn't ask. No. Because that's a _very_ tricky question to ask somebody. 

Because if Hux wasn't gay, he could find it insulting that I thought that he might be. 

And if he WAS, he could misinterpret my curiousity as, like, me trying to ask him out, or something. And that's not what I'm aiming for. At all.

So I wasn't going to ask . . . 

"Boyfriend?" I heard myself say, as nonchalantly as possible.

This time he did look up at me. I was terrified that he was going to get angry that I had even said that . . . 

But all he said was "Nope", again, in that same casual tone.

This time I was the one who felt the need to look down, so I pulled out my phone and pretended to go through my texts. But really, I was thinking.

He had said Nope. Just, Nope.

If he didn't like guys, wouldn't he **say** that? Instead of just "Nope"?

And why did I even _care_?

I was thinking that it was more than time for me to get up and go back out on the floor, and away from this weird conversation, when he said,

"What about you, Ben? If not that girl, then some other girl? Or boy?"

He was looking directly at me again, and for some reason this made me feel flustered. It took me longer than it should have, to say "No."

He looked at me another few seconds, then bent his head back over the schedules. 

"I'm going to be doing this a while longer," he said. "If you're going back out there, can you tell Rob I said to take his break now, and have Jonathon cover him?"

"Yup," I said, and got the hell out of there.

By the time I got back to stocking , my brain wouldn't leave me alone.

After all the overthinking I had done about Hux's reply to me, why didn't I put any goddamn thought into my own answer to his question?

No.

That was it.

All I had said was No. He asked if I had a girlfriend OR a boyfriend and I just said No. No, to both, instead of saying "No girlfriend, and I'm not into guys."

It bugged the shit out of me, that I was thinking so hard about such a not-a-big-deal conversation.

I was actually happy when Amanda, one of the cashiers, came to find me to ask if I'd mind getting a mouse out of the cage for a customer.

Which I _did_ mind, a little. Those little fuckers always bite the fingers.

But still.

It's better than being left alone with a bunch of random, annoying thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

Sports, in general, have never been my thing. Either as a spectator or a participant.

When I was a kid, mine and Phasma's mom's put us on this youth soccer team that some of their friends down at the community center were running. 

I remember how much I hated it. I would whine and cry and beg not to be dragged to practice, and getting me to show up to games was always an ordeal. But no matter what I did or said, mom wouldn't let me quit. She made me stick out the entire season despite my obvious misery, saying that I needed to learn teamwork, and have interaction with other kids besides Phasma all the time.

Yet unlike me, my best friend really, REALLY liked soccer. She took to it like a duck to water, and in fact she was the star player on our team. And she's been like that ever since.

Her height and her coordination skills make her a top-notch athlete no matter what sport she goes in for, and in most cases it doesn't take long for coaches to make her team captain.

This is still the case now, in high school. Amongst other things, Phasma is Captain of the girl's volleyball team. And the team is actually pretty good, from what I hear. The season just started a little while ago, but Phasma tells me they're already at a 7-0 winning streak.

I love Phasma, I really do, but honestly I think volleyball is one of the most boring sports out there. Never have I been so glad before that I work most afternoons, so that I have a solid excuse not to go to these games.

Of course, that isn't always the case.  
Like today.

I sat up high in the bleachers in the school gym, watching a game go on below me. They were playing the other high school, and quite a few more people were at this thing than I would have suspected. Mostly girls and parents. Phasma's parents weren't there, as they both had to work, so I think she was happy I had showed up.

She would look up during breaks and wave to me, and I'd wave back, trying to keep up my enthusiastic facade despite how goddamn bored I was. 

I had my phone out once the game got really intense and I knew Phasma wouldn't notice me not paying attention. I was so into the game of Candy Crush I was playing that I didn't notice someone had come up and sat next to me until that someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I jumped a little, and found myself looking into Hux's grinning face.

"What are you doing here?", I asked, surprised.

He pointed down towards the floor.

"See that girl right there? The short one with the long brown hair?", he asked, pointing to a girl on the opposing team. "That's my friend Diane. She asked me to come watch her game."

I chuckled and nodded. "I'm here to watch Phasma," I said, pointing to her down below. She had just spiked the ball over the net, putting our team in the lead. She was getting cheers and high-fives from her teammates.

Hux looked over at the scoreboard. "Looks like your team is really whipping our team."

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

Hux shrugged. "Honestly, I don't care. This whole thing is really, really boring to me. I only came to be nice to my friend."

"Same," I said with a grin.

"Do you like any sports?"

"Not really," I said, turning towards him. "I used to be really into watching professional wrestling, like WWE, but I haven't watched in a long time. And Phasma says that doesn't count as a 'real' sport, anyway."

"WWE? I used to love that," he said enthusiastically. "It's not really like a sport, it's more like, like a soap opera, but with fighting."

I nodded, and we spent some time talking about the old wrestling shows we had watched, and our favorite wrestlers. Before I knew it, time had flown and the game was over. We had won, 5-2.

Hux and I made our way down the bleachers and to the floor, where everyone was congratulating girls on both sides. I found Phasma and lifted her up in a big hug.

"You play like a monster, Phasma! That was a great game!"

She smiled and kissed my cheek. "Thanks, Ben; I'm so glad you came!"

I nodded, then I turned towards Hux.

"Phasma, this is Hux. My -- friend from work," I said, noting how weird it felt to actually call Hux my friend. "Hux, this is Phasma."

Hux smiled and took her hand. "Ben's right, you DO play really well. I hate to say it but you killed our team."

Phasma laughed and nodded. "Thanks. It's nice to finally meet you, Hux. Ben's mentioned you a lot before."

I could feel my face immediately turn red, when she said that. If there hadn't been other people around, I probably would have kicked her in the shin or something. How could she say that?! I did NOT talk about Hux a lot! And, God, what was he gonna think, hearing that?

But if Hux thought what she said was odd, he didn't show it. He just smiled and told her that he had heard a lot about her, too.

"So my team is going out to get pizza, to celebrate," she said, looking at me. "Other kids are coming too, not just people on the team. You in?"

I shook my head no. "That's okay, I'm kind of tired. I think I'm just going to go home."

"Do you need a ride? I can take you really quick, before I go."

Before I could say anything, Hux piped up "I can give you a ride, if you want. Diane is getting a ride with her teammates."

Phasma smiled at both of us, and for some reason, the _way_ she was smiling made me feel like blushing.

"Okay. See you at school tomorrow, Ben," she said, hugging me again. "And nice to meet you, Hux," she called over her shoulder as she went towards her team.

When she was gone, I turned to Hux and said "You didn't have to say that. I could have just taken the bus."

He shrugged and pulled his hoodie over his head. "It's no problem," he said, somewhat awkwardly. "Are you--are you really feeling tired?"

"No," I said, as we walked out the doors and into the dark parking lot. "I just didn't want to go out with all those people."

Hux nodded as if he'd thought as much; then, looking sideways at me, he said,

"Do you want to come over to my place, maybe hang out a little?"

When I didn't answer right away, he hurried on:

"My dad's still away. When he's gone, he always lets me order stuff from On-Demand. We could rent a movie or something, and eat and stuff?"

His request had taken on a subtle pleading tone, and it made me think back, again, to my earlier assumption that with his dad being gone all the time, Hux was probably very lonely.

"Sure," I said, with a small smile. "Just let me call my mom first and let her know where I am, so she won't freak out."

He nodded, also smiling, and waited as I quickly called mom.

And then we were off.

\---

Hux lived in one of those gated apartment complexes on the other side of town. The buildings are all big and white, and in-between every two buildings there's a pool.

"It must be nice, to have a private place to go swimming," I said, pointing at the dark pool outside of Hux's own building.

"I guess," Hux said, as he locked his car door and we walked up a flower-lined sidewalk. "I've only been in there like, 3 times, ever. I'm not much one for swimming."

I shook my head. "I'd be in there all the time, in the summer. They'd probably have to drag me out at the end of each day."

He chuckled and punched in an access code on a keypad on his door. He flipped on the lights in a large, tastefully decorated living room. There were two large leather couches, a big arm chair, and one of those floor-to-ceiling plasma HD TV sets. A shiny polished wooden table sat on the floor, on which sat a big clear vase filled with those colorful tiny rocks that look like crystals. A large picture window was behind the couches with fat wooden blinds. The colors of the room were tan and gray. I could see part of the kitchen from where I stood, a big room led into by two white marble steps. It had the kind of granite counters my mom would kill for, a reflective black stove with matching refrigerator, and a variety of silver pots and pans hanging from a hook display above a small island, around which sat several tall chairs.

It was what my mother would call "classy", and I guess I'd describe it the same way too, if asked. But the word that had popped into my mind wasn't classy, but cold. There was something very cold and empty about this huge, expensive looking place.

My house, while nowhere near as fancy as this, at least had a very lived in feel to it. The curtains that are frayed at the edges, the worn carpets, Chewie, the mismatched furniture; all of it gave proof to the idea that people _lived_ there.

But here, everything was so spotless and neat that I wouldn't have had any idea that any humans inhabited it, if I hadn't seen them  
with my own eyes beforehand.

I said none of this to Hux, though. I just took off my jacket and hung it neatly on the square peg behind the door, and followed him into the room.

"Are you hungry? Do you like spaghetti?" he asked, going into the kitchen and flipping on the lights.

"I love spaghetti," I told him, sitting at one of the high-backed chairs. 

He pulled a covered bowl out of the fridge with a grin. "I made some last night. You want some?"

" _You_ made it?", I asked in disbelief, as he pulled out two plates and heaped a decent serving on to both of them. He put one in the microwave and set the timer for 3 minutes.

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. 

"That's impressive," I told him. "I can hardly cook at all."

"Well, it's either that, or starve," he said. "Well, maybe not starve. Dad leaves money when he's away, for me to order out while he's gone. But I can only handle fast food so many times a week. So instead I'll use some of the money to buy actual food, and cook stuff myself."

The timer went off, and he took the plate from the microwave. He sprinkled Parmesan cheese over the top and handed the plate to me, with a fork. He also got us both red Mountain Dews from the fridge. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow when he brought those over.

"I know, I know," he said, snickering. "But kids are overrrated anyway, right?"

We both laughed at that, and I dug into my plate.

I took a bite, and couldn't help but grin. I hated to admit it, but Hux's spaghetti tasted better than my mom's; and it's rare for me to find home cooking I like better than hers.

"You're not a bad chef at all, Hux," I told him, as I quickly devoured my plate. By now his own plate was done in the microwave, and he joined me at the table, taking slow, careful bites of his own food. 

"I'm glad you like it.", was all he said, but he looked very pleased with himself.

"What kind of meat is this? My mom always uses ground beef."

"It's a mix of Italian and spicy pork sausage."

I made a mental note to myself, to suggest that to mom the next time she made spaghetti.

When I was done, I held my plate out to him with a joking, pouty puppy-dog face. He laughed, understanding what I was asking as he got up and made me a second plate.

When we were done, we went into the living room and Hux turned on the gorgeous huge tv, flipping to the PPV menu.

"Any particular movie you want to watch?," he asked, scrolling through the many titles.

"Surprise me."

He picked one of the new releases, something neither of us had seen yet, action-comedy.

It was funny, and I enjoyed it for the most part. But something odd happened that made it hard to concentrate, after a while.

During the course of the movie, Hux and I had gradually gravitated toward each other on the couch, until we were just barely touching, arm to arm. It made me feel weird but also very comfortable, if that makes sense. I could feel, several times, that Hux was looking at me sideways, but I tried my hardest not to return his look. That would have been even weirder. 

I was scared, a little, in that I found myself wanting very, _very_ badly to--to lean fully against him. To lay my head on his shoulder, take a little nap.

I didn't know why I felt like that, and I didn't know how to process what I was feeling. And the worst part was, against my mind's protests, I could _feel_ my body letting it happen. Letting me get closer to him.

And worst-worst of all: somehow, without him saying anything, without him doing anything more than looking at me from the corner of his eye, I could **feel** that Hux wanted it, too. Wanted me to keep moving closer. Wanted to feel the pressure of my head on his shoulder. Maybe, possibly, wanted to feel the weight of his own arm around MY shoulders. 

Hugging me.

 _Holding_ me.

With some effort, I violently snapped myself out of my confusing thoughts, and sat up straight, subtly putting some distance between the two of us.

He didn't react, but I noticed that after that he kept his eyes on the screen. He had also folded his arms across his chest and gripped them there, by the elbows, holding himself rather tightly. Almost as if he was trying to control himself, or hold himself back, in some way.

When he took me back home, there was more of that weird, almost-staticky tension in the car. Both of us made conversation and laughed and joked like always, but something felt--different. Some undefinable thing that had changed, just below the surface.

When we pulled up to the house, I unbuckled my seatbelt and sat there for a few minutes. I wanted to get out, but at the same time didn't quite want to leave. I felt that I needed (or wanted) to say something to him, but I wasn't sure what. Or how.

Timidly, he reached over and touched me, very lightly, on the arm. "Thanks for coming over and keeping me company," he said, with a somewhat shy smile.

"Thanks for inviting me. And the food," I added, trying to be humorous. "But now I have to go in there and break my mom's heart, and tell her that her spaghetti isn't my favorite anymore."

Hux laughed and nodded. "Well, call me if you need emotional support."

"I don't think I even have your number," I blurted out, and felt a little embarrassed at doing so.

"Sure you do. ALL of our numbers are listed on that big handout they gave you your first day at the store."

I rolled my eyes. "Like I ever keep shit like that."

"Well, it's important you have my number," Hux said, casually, and not looking at me "You know, for work-related emergencies."

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay. What's yours?"

He told me and I typed it carefully into my phone, saving it with the letter H in my contacts. Then I sent him a text of the eye-rolling emoji. 

"There," I said, putting my phone away. "Now you've got mine, too."

He nodded, and, even though it was dark in the car, I thought I could see his face turn pink.

I quickly said goodnight and got out of the car, walking swiftly up my walk and fumbling out my house key. Hux watched until  
I had gotten inside, then pulled off down the driveway and back home.

Mom was sitting on the couch when I came in, reading a book.

"Hi, baby," she said as I hung up my jacket. "Did you have fun with your friend?"

I nodded, and leaned over the back of the couch to kiss her goodnight, saying how tired I was, before she could ask me any details.

For some reason, I felt shy, talking about it. Which was odd considering all I had done was go to a friend's house, eat, and watch a movie. Pretty much exactly what I did when I went to see Phasma.

But still, it felt odd.

As tired as I was, I laid awake in bed for quite a while, staring at the ceiling and thinking.

Just, thinking.


	6. Chapter 6

"Can I ask you something?"

He turned his head to look at me.

"Yeah?"

It was Sunday afternoon, and dad and I had driven to the old lake downtown to do some fishing. For once, the old shitbox that was his car started, and he wanted to take advantage of it to the fullest.

Fishing is pretty much a hit or mix thing with me. Sometimes it's really relaxing, other times it's really boring. But I wanted to go with him today, because I needed to talk to him, away from the house, away from my mother. He was leaving the next day to go on a week-long haul, and I wanted to grab the opportunity while I could.

We were sitting at the end of one of the long piers, our legs dangling over the side, a fishing case and a cooler of beer and soda between us. It was more than a little chilly out, but both of us were wearing multiple layers, so it wasn't that bad. Actually, dad has always maintained that this is the best time of the year to catch fish, right when the weathers starting to turn cold. Says the fish are hungry and ready to bite at anything, because soon they'd be going into hibernation.

I don't think any of that is true, really, but I've never bothered trying to turn dad away from his fishy delusions.

I swallowed, and tried to ignore the slight pounding in my temples. I knew what I had to ask him, but wasn't sure how to go about it.

"When you were in high school, you had a lot of girlfriends, right?"

He nodded with a grin. "I did, Benny. I know, I know that a lot of guys brag about women and 9/10 times they're bullshitting numbers, but I'm not. I had a new girlfriend every few weeks, from sophomore year on."

I took a deep breath, then asked, not able to look at him, "Always _girl_ friends?"

He laid down his pole and looked at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, now sure that I wasn't going to be able to go through with this.

Dad put his hand on my shoulder and said, quietly, "Are you--you're asking if I ever had a--a boyfriend?"

I nodded, and felt my face turn red.

He was quiet for a long time, and finally he said "No. That kind of thing never interested me."

Then he quickly put his hand on my arm and gave it a firm, reassuring pat. "Not that I think there's anything wrong with that. I'm not against gays, if--if that's what you mean."

He took a drink from his beer before going on:

"I know we haven't really talked about stuff like this in the past. Stuff like, uh, 'life issues', or whatever they call it. But I want it to be clear to you that I'm all for love. ANY kind of love. It's all that matters in a relationship; not color, not background, and not gender, either."

"I was just curious. How do you _know_ if you love someone? Like, how did you know you loved mom? You say you had a lot of girlfriends before, so how did you know mom was the one you wanted, like forever-wanted?"

Dad smiled, and took another drink of his beer. He held the bottle out to me, offering me some, but I just shook my head and waited for his answer.

"It wasn't something I knew right away, I can tell you that," he finally said, thoughtfully. "It was--gradual. Everything was so gradual that I didn't even know I was in love until it was too late. But it was like, I don't know, little things. She started being the first person I wanted to talk to, each day. When something exciting happened, Leia would be the first person I'd want to call and talk to. And my shirts."

"Your shirts?", I said, confused.

He nodded.

"My shirts. When she used to come visit me at my old apartment, and after we--you know--"

"Skip the details, please," I said, making a face.

"Right. Okay, after we 'played Monopoly", she would gather up all the clothes off my floor and sort them into clean and dirty. And the shirts, she'd take such time with them, folding and creasing them. It used to drive me crazy, her doing that. I asked her one time why she always did that, if she knew everything would just end up back on the floor anyway. She says, and I never forgot this, "'I've gotta take care of your shirts because they do what I want to do for you; hold you every hour of the day.'"

We were both silent for a while, staring out at the water. 

"Your earlier question," he said eventually, carefully, "About having boyfriends. Can I ask why you wanted to know that, or would you rather I didn't?"

I just shook my head and said, softly, "I'd rather you didn't."

He took that in silence, then he said, "You know that you can tell me things, right? That you can trust me?"

I nodded.

"Is it normal, to feel confused? About--things?", I asked him. Before he could answer I went on,

"For example, lets say I've always been a fan of vanilla ice cream. JUST vanilla. And then one day I smelled some strawberry and I thought, I might like that. But I only _smelled_ it. I didn't taste it. Like, would that be normal, to wonder what strawberry was like?"

Dad nodded, and he leaned over and put his arm around me, giving me a hard half-hug.

"Vanilla is good. Strawberry might be good, too. Or chocolate, or mint, or cookie dough. But you never know until you take a bite."

He started to gather up his things, and reeled his line in.

"I'd say it's time to pack it in, wouldn't you? We're not getting any bites out here."

I nodded and reeled in my own line.

"Um, dad, I'd appreciate it if you didn't--"

"It's just between us, Ben," he said, understanding what I was thinking. 

I looked around to make sure we were relatively alone, then I put both of my arms around him and hugged him really hard.

"Sometimes I really love you, dad," I said, as I let go.

"Sometimes I love you too, kid," he said with a smile. "More than sometimes, actually. Now come on, help me carry all this crap to the car."

I did.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke up to the insistent ringing of my phone. I pulled it off the charger with a groan, and squinted at the name flashing on the screen.

Phasma.

I quickly looked at the clock on my dresser. 1am.

Something must be wrong, for her to be calling so late.

"What's wrong?", was the first thing I asked as I answered the phone.

"Look outside!"

"What?"

"Get out of bed, and look outside!"

So I stumbled out of my bed and staggered across the floor, grumbling to Phasma that the world better be ending for her to wake me up like this.

As I pulled back my curtain, I couldn't believe it.

A heavy white blanket of snow covered everything in sight, and more was streaming out of the sky.

"Holy shit," I mumbled in awe. It was bizarre; it was only the middle of October. We hadn't even had Halloween yet.

"I know!", she exclaimed excitedly. "The news is calling it a freak blizzard. Apparently by morning we're supposed to have a foot and a half, and it's supposed to keep going until 6pm!"

"Jesus. So school should definitely be closed, right?"

"Exactly. My mom thinks so, too. So I was thinking--do you want to go sledding?"

"Like, tomorrow?"

"Like right now, you moron. With me, Jeff and Tommy," she said, talking about her 8 and 10 year old brothers."

"Right now? Seriously?"

"Come on, Ben, it'll be fun! No one else will be at the park, and we'd have the big hills all to ourselves."

I smiled, warming up to her idea. Then I had an idea of my own.

"Do you mind if I invite a friend, to meet us there?"

"Hells yeah," she said. "The more the merrier. So does that mean you're in?"

"If you pick me up, I'm in."

"Of course! Okay, see you in 20," she said, and hung up.

I debated in my head whether to text _him_ or not. In the end, I couldn't resist.

He's gonna kill me for waking him up, I thought to myself. 

Still, I opened up my phone and scrolled though my contacts until I found the letter H. This would be the first time sending him a text since he had given me his number.

I thought about what to say, as I got dressed. Finally, I typed out:

[ Can your car drive good in the snow? ]

I didn't think he'd answer me back at all, so I was shocked when he replied less than a minute later. He must have still been awake.

[ Yeah. It's got 4 wheel drive. Why? ]

I quickly typed out that me, Phasma, and her two little brothers were going sledding at Karmongle Park, and asked if he wanted to meet us there.

Then I slipped the phone in my pocket as I found my heavy coat and gloves, pulling them on along with my boots.

I went into my mom's room to wake her up, and tell her where I was going. I don't think she really understood me, because she was half asleep, but she mumbled a "'Kay", so I took that as permission.

I went into the garage to get my old silver sled, and yanked it out by the string.

Then I went out front and stood in the driveway, waiting for Phasma. It was surprising, how warm it felt. The snow was pouring out of the sky, coating the yards and the streets. And everything was so bright, almost as bright as daytime.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out and yanked off my glove with my teeth to touch the screen.

[ I don't have a sled ] is what he had answered back.

[ So you can ride with me. Please? ], I typed, adding that last 'please' as an afterthought.

I waited anxiously, and as I waited, Phasma pulled up. I put my sled in her trunk and climbed into the front seat.

"Hey, guys," I said to her brothers, who said hi back. They looked really excited, to be out so late. 

To Phasma I said, "This is definitely one of your better ideas."

"Thanks, I thought so, too," she said with a laugh, as she carefully took the empty streets down to the park. Already the roads were hard to navigate, but eventually we made it and parked carefully in a little spot.

When we parked, I looked at my phone before getting out of the car. Hux still hadn't replied. 

He must think I'm crazy, to ask him to go play in the snow at 1 in the morning, I concluded to myself, and tried to brush off the high probability of him not coming.

We took the sleds out of the car, and her brothers' snowboards. They immediately took off for the tallest hill, barely paying attention to Phasma's shouted warnings of "Be careful!"

To me, she said, "So I take it he said No?"

I looked at her, startled. "He, who?", I asked pensively. I hadn't even told her which friend I was asking to join us.

She watched as her brothers took off simultaneously down the hill on their snowboards, shrieking laughter into the quiet night.

"Hux," she answered, with no hesitation. "That's who you meant, right? Hux?"

I nodded, pressing my lips together and quickly looking the other way.

"I think maybe it's too cold for him," I said as we walked across the snow. "He's kind of thin."

"Yeah, I noticed. But then again, maybe it's not too cold."

I didn't have time to ask what she meant, as a splash of headlights behind us made us both turn around.

Hux got out of his car with a smile, throwing a timid wave. I waved back, feeling that a huge smile had broken out on my face but completely unable to help it. Phasma was smiling, too.

"Nighttime sledding," he said as he walked up to us. "This is actually a genius idea. Whose was it?"

Phasma grinned and took a little bow. "That would be me."

He smiled back at her, then turned to me. "I haven't been sledding in a long time. Since like, maybe 10 or 12 years old. Just to warn you, if we're sharing a sled: I'm a screamer."

"Fuck, so is Ben," Phasma said, laughing as we started to climb the same tall hill as her brothers, who were now trying the next one. "But then again, so am I, so don't worry. You're amongst friends."

We made it to the top and stood looking down. The slope looked a LOT steeper in the dark, and higher from up here.

Phasma positioned her sled on the ground and climbed into it, keeping one leg out to anchor her. I did the same, scooting towards the back of my long sled. "My legs are longer, so you get in front of me," I said to Hux.

He climbed in and held on to the sides. I did the same. 

"Ready?", Phasma asked, and we all nodded. 

"Okay. On three. One, two --"

She pushed off with her leg and took off down the hill, MUCH faster than I expected. I did the same, and Hux and I went shrieking down the hill. It moved so fast that I actually got scared, and before I could stop myself I moved my hands from grasping the sides to grabbing Hux's waist. By the time we hit the bottom, the sled toppled over and spilled us both, laughing hysterically, into the snow.

We laid there for a few moments, still in frozen shock. I could hear Phasma laughing close by, and the sound of her boots crunching towards us. I quickly took my arms from around Hux, not even having realized that I had still been clutching him, and we scrambled to our feet.

"Holy shit, that was awesome!", Phasma exclaimed, her face and coat both dusted with snow.  
"Let's go again!", She tucked her sled under her arm and she grabbed at my hand to pull me up the hill. Without really thinking about it, I found myself reaching for Hux's hand, to drag him up as well. He seemed surprised, but he grasped my hand back, pulling our sled up by the string with his other hand.

We stayed there for over two hours, going up and down the hills. Mostly Hux rode with me; a few times he rode down with Phasma. At one point we switched out with her brothers, letting them take our sleds and the three of us taking turns with their snowboards. THAT was a fun but truly terrifying experience. On one of her rides down, Phasma's board hit a rock or something and she did almost a complete forward flip, board and all, in the snow. She was fine, and laughed about it, but I swear seeing that happen almost gave me a heart attack.

It was almost 4am by the time we left, and then something bad happened.

Phasma's car wouldn't start. 

Hux and I both gave it a shot, and we tried to jump it with battery cables, but nothing worked.

"Damn," she said, pulling out her phone. "Guess I'll have to call dad to pick us up."

"No you don't. I can give you guys a ride home," Hux said, beginning  
to move all our sleds and snowboards from her trunk to his.

"Really? Thank you!", Phasma said, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

Hux looked surprised, but gently hugged her back. "It's no problem. But what about your car?"

"I think it'll be safe enough here 'til morning," she said, walking around and trying each door to make sure they were locked. "Then I'll just come back with my dad. He's got one of those trucks with a tow cable on it, so we can just haul it somewhere to get fixed."

Hux nodded, and we finished loading the trunk and got in the warmed-up car. I sat in the back seat with her two brothers, who at this point were leaning against each other, half-asleep. Phasma sat up front with Hux, giving him directions to her house.

When we got there, Hux and I helped Phasma stack her sled and the snowboards in their garage, and she roused the two boys out of their dozing and sent them into the house.

"This was fun, you guys," she said, looking at the both of us. "We've gotta do this again the next time it snows in October."

"It'll be like The Breakfast Club, only with sleds," Hux said with a smile.

"Exactly."

She hugged me, and then Hux, again, and went into her house after waving at us one final time.

As we got back into the car and pulled off, I said "That was really nice of you, to offer her a ride like that."

He shrugged. "She's a nice person."

I nodded, and we were quiet the rest of the way to my house.

When we got there, he pulled in my driveway and turned to me.

"Seriously, the school's better be closed tomorrow. I'm tired as hell now."

"I'm sure they will be. Look, it's still coming down pretty damn hard, and I haven't heard a sign of a snowplow yet."

He nodded. "That's true. Maybe it's that no one _knows_ it's snowing right now. You wouldn't expect it in freakin' October. It's like -- like --"

"Like a secret," I finished for him.

"That's a good way to put it. Like a secret."

We looked at each other for a few seconds, and then I started to get out of the car.

"Wait," he says, and I turned back around. "I forget; do you work tomorrow? Er, I mean, later today?"

"Nope. I'm off. Why?"

"You want to come over, like later this afternoon? I was planning on making tacos."

I smiled widely.

"Dude, you could have just led off with that. I'm a whore for tacos."

"Good to know. So I'll pick you up later, then? Like, around 2, 2:30-ish?"

I nodded. "That sounds good to me. Hey, will you do me a favor?"

"Yes?"

"Don't laugh, I know this sounds stupid, but will you text me when you get home? So that I know you made it okay? Otherwise I'd be worried."

He looked at me incredulously. "You'd worry--about me?"

"I worry about ALL my friends driving in the winter," I said quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush I could feel sneaking its way across my face.

"But it's not winter; it's technically still fall," he said, and smirked.

"Winter, fall, whatever. There's snow on the ground, therefore I worry, therefore you need to text me."

He nodded, seeing that I was being serious.

"Okay, I will."

"Good."

I got out for real this time, saying goodnight and watching him pull off down the street.

When I got to the door, the shovel was leaned against it with a note from my mom.

"Ben,

If you love me, you'll shovel out the driveway for me so that I can make it to work in the morning. I'm leaving at 5:30 because of traffic.

Love,

The woman who makes you breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. And buys you clothes. And loves you more than anything in the universe. And spent 9 and a half hours in labor with you.

Mom."

I groaned and grabbed the shovel, beginning to clear the driveway for her. Halfway through I got a message from Hux:

[ Made it. Here's your text.]

I smiled and typed back:

[ Thanks. See you later. ]

And then I got to work on the rest of the driveway.


	8. Chapter 8

Whenever my uncle Luke comes to visit, it's a big deal in my household.

Or maybe I should say, a big **or** deal. The way my mom acts before he shows up, you'd it was the Pope coming to town.

Mom spends hours cleaning and rearranging things in the tiny bedroom we use as a guest room. Really we should just call it the Luke room because he's the only one who ever stays in it.

Mom will also make multiple trips to the grocery store, picking out all the ingredients to the weird vegan dishes that Luke eats. That's right, VEGAN. Which, you know, there's nothing wrong with being Vegan, or Vegetarian, or whatever you choose to put in your own body. The only time it _becomes_ a "problem" is when the family you visit feeds you these dishes for the duration of your stay, which always lasts at least a week, and they end up eating these weird meals with you. Especially their teenage son who is a known, proud meat eater.

But it's not just the food thing that makes my uncle weird in my eyes; it's, well, almost **everything** about him.

He's what my mother calls a "free spirit" and my dad calls a "modern-day hippie". He lives in a tiny little house in the next state. His actual job is a teacher; he teaches psychology and philosophy courses at a local college. We've been to see him a couple of times over the past years, during summer.

His house is bleak, and more than a little depressing. It barely has two sticks of furniture in the entire place. His own bedroom consists of a small mattress on the floor, a record player, and one naked lightbulb swinging from an overhead fixture. The rest of the house is no better. Yet mom makes us stay there, in that house, rather than go to a nice, clean hotel room. 

Sleeping bags.

Me, mom and dad sleep on the floor of his living room, in _**sleeping bags**_.

While we're there, or when he's here, we get constant lectures on the importance of healthy eating, meditation, the power of positive thinking, and even yoga.

Not surprisingly, dad suddenly finds ways and reasons to be away from the house, whenever Luke comes over. Like this time. Suddenly the interstate haul job he was going to turn down sounded mighty appealing, so off he went, with a kiss for both my mother and me, and the whistling that only comes when you're really, really relieved of something you had been dreading.

But here's the kicker: 

Uncle Luke, is filthy rich.

Years ago, when he and my mother were both in their 20's, and my grandpa was still alive, Luke and grandpa were avid players of the stock market. My grandpa had a mind for what stocks would do well, and a sort of 'sixth sense' when it came to ways to smartly invest the money they had won.

But, as my mom put it, grandpa got greedy.

He started blowing his money on expensive, lavish and entirely unnecessary things. He also became somewhat of a gamblers making frequent visits to casinos and blowing astronomical amounts of money on roulette and blackjack tables. As can happen in cases like that, he stopped being careful and started sacrificing more and more of his fortune to high-risk business opportunities and gambling ventures.

Eventually, inevitably, he lost everything, and in doing so, more or less gave up the desire to live. He had moved in with my uncle during his final days, and when he died, mom said it broke something in Luke. He became more and more of a recluse, and, while he still had HIS money, saw little point in _doing_ much with it, other than spending it on the bare minimum of food, clothing and housing that one needs to survive.

I've asked mom before just HOW much Luke has in the bank, but she always refuses to answer. But from listening to her whisper to my dad late at night, I gather it's a few _million_. Or at least it was. Now, who knows? Mom says there are several charities that he anonymously donates to once a year, usually around Christmas time, so by that logic, his money could very well BE all gone.

I know mom wants him to come and live with us. I've heard her talking it over with my dad plenty of times before, over the years. Mom says that Luke, despite his cheerful demeanor and his money, is extremely lonely. She thinks it would do him good to be here, amongst family. To move into the little bedroom permanently. To find a teaching job here.

Which, if that ever happens, I hope I'm 18 and moved away to college by then.

But despite all the weirdness, Luke isn't really a bad guy. He's always very happy to see us, and whenever he shows up, more often than not he'll bring 'presents'.

Last year he brought me a pink pedometer, giving it to me after an incredibly long lecture about how necessary it was to walk and get your heart rate up each day. When I asked why it was pink, he told me that colors belonged to everybody, and pink wasn't just for girls. He brought mom 3 tiny silver statues of the Indian gods Vishnu, Brahma, and Shiva. I forgot what they're supposed to mean, but mom seemed to like them, or at least she acted like she did.

But this time, standing in the living room and letting uncle Luke hug me, there were no discernible gifts in sight, which I was grateful for.

He was much skinnier than the last time I saw him, and he had grown an impressive looking beard.

I followed as he and mom went into the kitchen, where she started dishing up a steaming bowl of -- something. Honestly I'm not sure what it was, and I didn't want to ask. The smell wasn't bad but it had literally no taste to it. But Luke sat there and ate 3 bowls full, so I guess it served its purpose.

"So, Ben," he said to me, as mom brought out some kind of weird cake, "How's school?"

I told him a little about the classes I was taking, what I was good at, what I enjoyed. I also told him about my part-time job at Soggy Doggy, and how much I loved working with all the animals.

He smiled as I told him that. "You know, animals are a healer to the soul. They're more in-tune with nature than humans. We could all learn a lesson from them."

I had no idea what he meant, so I just nodded.

"Well, before you leave, why don't you come check out some of the pets when I'm working?, I asked him, taking a cautious bite of the cake. It didn't taste bad at all, like I thought it would, so I took another bite. "I could get you a great discount on a dog, if you're interested."

Luke just smiled and shook his head. "I don't believe there's enough room in my place for a dog. They have large souls, so they need large areas to roam in. What about cats? Have you got any cats?"

So I spent some time telling him about all the cats we currently had, and about the "personalities" of a lot of them. Listening to myself talk, I realized that, from a certain point of view, I sounded just as looney as Luke did.

"Well, I'll have to come and see them tomorrow."

"There's no rush," I repeated, still eating my cake. "Just, you know, before you leave."

"But that's just it; I'm leaving the day after tomorrow."

Mom snapped her head up in surprise. "'The day after tomorrow'?", she practically wailed. "So soon? I thought you were staying all week!"

"No, my darling Leia. Didn't I tell you in my last letter? A group of teachers and I are taking a trip to Canada, to a spiritual retreat near the Rocky Mountains."

"Oh," mom said, and I could tell she was trying hard to keep from sounding disappointed. "Well, that's good, that you get out there with friends."

Luke nodded, then he turned back to me.

"So your mom tells me that you're saving up for a car," he asked casually, taking a sip of green tea.

"Mm hmm," I said, getting up and putting my empty plate in the sink. As I sat back down, I said, "Its a slow process, but I'm doing good."

"Well, that's one of the reasons I'm here, Benny. How would you like my old car? My mustang?"

I looked at him incredulously. My uncle's car was a black 1968 Ford Mustang Coupe. It was parked in the driveway right now. Of all the things my uncle had, the car was definitely the nicest. He had bought it from a old collector of vintage cars years ago, and had kept it in near-mint condition ever since. The thing had less than 50,000 miles on it, and ran like a dream.

And, once again, it was parked right out in the driveway.

"I could never afford something like that, uncle," I said regretfully.

He smiled and shook his head. "That's not what I asked. I asked if you wanted it, not if you could afford it."

"Well, of course I'd want something like that. But --"

"Then, my dear nephew, it's yours," he said, taking the keys from his pocket and sliding them across the table to me.

I looked at the keys, then at my mom, then at Luke. "Are you being serious?"

He nodded. "Your mom tells me so many good things about you in her letters, Ben. You've turned into such an intelligent, caring young man. And I'm proud of you. Consider it an early birthday gift.

I was at a total loss for words, I just sat there staring open mouthed at the keys. 

"Luke talked to me about this a while ago. I told him you understood the importance of keeping an old car like that in good shape, being responsible, and that you'd take care of it."

"One thing though; it's a stick shift. If your mother thinks you can afford to miss school tomorrow, then me and you are gonna spend the day teaching you to drive it."

I still couldn't find the words to express my excitement. All I could get out is "But how will you get back home?"

"One of my friends is coming to pick me up day after tomorrow, where we'll be heading to the retreat. After that, he's taking me back home, where I've still got my other car."

I leapt up from the table and hugged him as hard as I could.

"I can't believe this," I exclaimed, squealing almost like a little girl. "Can we start now?"

And without waiting for him to answer I snatched up the keys and ran outside, to kiss and cuddle my new baby.

In the past week, after Luke had left, I had gotten my own plates, had registered the car in my name, and signed up for insurance. But the whole time, I had been keeping it a secret. I kept it parked in the garage and only took it out at night. I wanted to be sure I was 100% comfortable with driving the stick shift before I drove it around regularly. I continued to take the bus to school and to work, and at night I'd come home and practice.

When the day finally came when I was ready, I drove to Phasma's house and parked outside by the curve. Then I texted her 

[ Come outside ]

She came out a few minutes later, looking around. Her eyes went wide as she spotted me, smiling, in the front seat of the Mustang.

"Ben? Is that you?", she asked, walking slowly up to the rolled-down passenger window.

"Yep. Guess who's got a car?"

She yelled and hopped in the door, leaning over to hug me excitedly. 

"Oh my god I can't believe it! You have a car! Holy shit!"

I told her about my good luck with uncle Luke, and how long I had had to practice getting familiar with the stick shift.

I took her for a ride to the beach, stopping to get McDonald's along the way. She didn't want to eat in the car, so we got out and walked along the pier, laughing and talking and fighting off pushy seagulls. It was freezing, of course, but neither of us minded too much.

We sat down at the end of the pier and dangled our feet over the edge, watching the sunset. She had her arm around me and was pressed into me, trying to keep warm.

After a few moments of quiet, she leaned up and asked, casually, "So how's Hux?"

I shrugged. "Hux is Hux. I don't see him that often, you know. Except at work."

And that was the truth. We hadn't had any more outings at either persons house, since that day several weeks ago when we went sledding during the surprise blizzard. That afternoon, when I had gone to his house for the tacos, something strange had happened.

We had been watching another movie on the big tv in his living room, and he had been close to me again. He had said something about being cold, and had started to get up to turn up the heat, when I pulled him back down.

"Here," I had said, pulling off my hoodie and handing it to him. It was about a size bigger than he was, and warm. He pulled it over his head, and thanked me. I was looking at him. He was looking at me.

He started to lean close to me. Very close. To my face. He almost looked like he was going to -- to --

"Whoa," I said, and backed up. I actually said 'Whoa'. I didn't think that people ever really said that word, or used it as anything other than a sound effect. Like, in my head, a 'whoa' is supposed to a quick exhale of breath when something (or someone) freaks you out.

Which was what was happening here.

Only I said the actual word.

"Whoa; what are you doing?!"

He looked both scared and confused 

"I, uh -- isn't that what you wanted?

Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I wanted you to kiss me. I'll never forget the way your eyes looked, right before you started to lean in. Or the way you were staring at me this whole time before this moment; like I was the best, the funniest, the most wonderful creature in this whole world. Yes, kiss me. 

"I, um, I'm sorry, but, you--uh, I'm not--guys--I'm not--"

He nodded as if he understood, even though **I** didn't understand what the fuck I was trying to say.

"I'm so sorry," he said, backing so far away this time that he might as well be in another room. Already it felt like he was in another galaxy, certainly a different reality, than me. "I, uh, I guess I made a mistake--?"

No, you didn't make a mistake. You were reading the signals I was giving off, ones that I wasn't even fully aware that I was emitting. Kiss me. Please. _Please_.

"I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to--"

I stopped, not sure of what else to say, or how to go on. Because I DID mean it, and I WASN'T sorry.

"Maybe I should go," I finished.

No. Please, don't let me leave. Something almost happened that has me very scared and very confused but even though I'm terrified of what this could mean, I want to see where this could be going.

"Okay," he said, picking up my backpack and holding it out to me. I kept my eyes on the floor as I took it, not able to meet his gaze. "I'll get the car."

"No, no, it's okay. I'll, uh, I'll just take the bus. Goodnight."

Without another word I turned around and hurried out the door, out the gates, and to the bus-stop at the corner. I was extremely lucky in that a bus was pulling up right at that second, because any more time and he probably would have come after me, to try and talk to me some more. 

When I got home, I sat down on my front step and just stared out into the darkening night. It had been freezing, the snow still being piled on the ground, but I didn't feel like I could leave the calming quiet.

By the time I could move again, I looked at the clock and saw that it was already 10pm. I walked inside and went to bed.

In the days that followed, Hux tried everything in his power to get me to talk to him. Calling, texting, trying to catch me alone at work. But I just wasn't ready.

And I still wasn't.

I didn't say any of this to Phasma, though; I just told her that I had a lot of homework lately and between that and work I didn't have a lot of time to go hang out with him.

She nodded, even though I felt like she could sense there was more going on than what I was saying.

After awhile, the cold got to be too much so we got back in the car and went back home. I asked if she wanted to come back to my house and hang out for awhile but she said she had homework. 

After I dropped her off, I sat in the driveway for a long time in my car, in the dark, thinking.

After awhile I pulled out my phone and sent the text I had been meaning to send for almost two weeks.

[ Hey ]

[ You home? ]

[ I'm on my way over ]

[ Need to talk to you ]


	9. Chapter 9

We were in my living room, watching tv. Dad was gone and mom was still at work. And Hux had his hands on my shoulders and was leaning into me, kissing me.

Ever since the day we had that talk, where we finally admitted to the attraction that was between us, we had been 'experimenting' like this. We didn't really have any idea what we were doing, or how far we were going to go. The only thing we both knew was that the feeling between us too strong to just keep ignoring.

So far, I liked the hugging and the kissing, even though sometimes he went just a little bit farther than I was prepared for. For example, I couldn't help but panic a little and draw back when I felt him slip his tongue into my mouth.

He immediately took his hands from my shoulders.

"I'm sorry; was that too much?", he asked nervously.

I nodded and bit down on my lip. "A little, yeah. It's, uh, it's not you. You're doing nothing wrong. I'm just not used to this, period. With--with a guy."

He moved a little away from me.

"I feel like I'm making you really uncomfortable. I'm sorry," he said, sounding guilty.

I shook my head vigorously.

"No, no, you're not. I just--I just need a little time. To adjust. Okay?"

He nodded, and pulled his backpack onto the table. 

"We'll go a little slower, okay?", he said with a smile. "How about we take a break for a while and work on homework?"

I agreed, and we spent the next hour and a half helping each other with our work. I helped him with his math, and he helped me with my history worksheet, which he was surprisingly knowledgeable in.

Afterwards, he came with me as I took Chewie for his nightly walk around the neighborhood. He walked beside me, but didn't make any moves to hold my hand or put his arm around me, even though I could tell he wanted to.

Even though **I** kinda wanted him to, as well.

When it was time for him to go, he gave me a very chaste kiss on the cheek and a brief, warm hug, as well as the usual promise to text me when he made it home.

Only the texts didn't stop there.

We texted each other back and forth until the early hours of the morning.

At the end of it all, before I finally went to sleep, I had time to reflect on the absurdity of the situation we were in.

I was both more confused, and more _sure_ , than ever.

\---

The next time we were alone was Sunday afternoon, after work, in his room. This time, when he started to kiss me, I just let myself go, completely. Mentally and physically. I stopped letting myself worry about what we were doing, I stopped thinking of how nervous I was, how awkward I felt, and just tried to have fun with it.

Hux noticed the change in my body language and responded to it, seeming as if he was relaxing as well.

I laid back on his covers and grabbed his shirt, gently pulling him down on top of me. His arms went around me and held me tightly, stroking my skin. At some point I could feel his hand moving down my stomach and towards my jeans, hesitating, and I could sense that he was wondering if he was moving too fast for me. I took a deep mental breath and grabbed his wandering hand, moving it further down my body myself.

The pace of our kissing changed the further his hand went, becoming slower, and much deeper. I could barely breathe when I heard the sound of my zipper sliding down, notch by notch, cautiously.

He moved his lips away from mine to whisper in my ear, "Are you okay with this? Is it all right if I--?"

I nodded and brought our lips back together. When his fingers lightly brushed the tip of my member, I couldn't help the groan that slid between my teeth and into his open mouth. It felt so _good_!

I didn't give my insecurities a chance to catch up with me as he started to stroke me up and down. I was a little surprised, at how fast I got hard. Normally when I did this to myself it took like twice as long to feel half of what I was feeling right then. Either he was skilled or I was really, really turned on.

Both, probably.

The harder he stroked, the more I felt myself coming undone, especially when he slid his lips down to my neck. He sped up the motion of his hand and bit down softly just below my jaw. I'm not sure, but I think I let out a cry or something. Honestly, I had never heard myself make that kind of noise before, and it sounded both strange and wonderful to my ears.

I felt myself pulling closer and closer to the edge, and I said as much to Hux, or at least I think I _tried_. At that point, it seemed that little more could make it past my lips than breathy, unintelligible grunts.

And then, it happened.

No, not an orgasm, not cumming, although I was mere minutes away from it.

At the same time, we both heard heavy footsteps in the hallway, and a deep voice call out "Armitage? Where are you?"

Both of us absolutely froze; and then Hux moved faster than I would have thought him capable of. In a series of lighting-quick movements he had his hand out of my pants and my zipper flipped back up, which was impressive that he was able to do, considering the hard-on I had at the moment. Then he had straightened his shirt, MY shirt, his hair, and was flying across the room to switch on his tv, and his Xbox. He tossed one controller to me and I barely caught it, my mind is a frenzied tailspin. He grabbed his other controller himself and sat down in his chair across the room, facing his tv just as his father walked in the door.

His father was a tall, bearded man, heavily built, and tanned. He had the same hue of red hair as his son, and the same freckles across the face.

He looked at me, then at Hux.

"Hey, son, I'm home. Caught an earlier flight," he said as he stood in the doorway.

"Hi, dad," Hux said, his eyes glued to his tv screen. "This is my friend Ben, from work."

"Hi," I said, in as normal a voice as I could manage. I had sat up straight and had crossed my legs, sitting at the very edge of Hux's bed. I prayed that he wouldn't notice how flushed my face was, or somehow intuit how nervous I felt. 

I also prayed he wouldn't be the kind of guy who would expect me to stand up and shake his hand. My boner had gone down by then, but not enough to where it wouldn't be noticeable if I had to stand up just then.

But he wasn't.

He just nodded and said "Nice to meet you."

Then he turned to Hux and said "Have you boys eaten yet?"

"No."

"Well, order some pizza or something. There's money downstairs. I've got to get ready; I have a date tonight."

Now Hux grinned a little as he looked at his father. 

"That same lady? Ms. Thomas?"

His father smiled back. "That's the one."

He turned to go. "I'll be back around 11 or so. Don't stay up too late, now, you have school tomorrow."

Hux nodded. "I won't. Have fun."

His dad nodded and left. We both waited until we heard the sound of the bathroom door close and the shower turn on, before we breathed again.

"Oh my God," I said, falling back on his bed and covering my face with my hands. "That scared the SHIT out of me!"

Hux laughed and came and sat beside me. "Me, too. Jesus."

I sat back up and looked at him.

"So I take it, he doesn't know that--?"

Hux shook his head. "No. I never told him, and he's never around long enough to ask."

I was quiet for a little bit, then I said, timidly, 

"I liked it. What--what we were doing before."

He smiled and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'm glad. Sorry you didn't get to, um, 'finish', though."

I started to laugh.

He laughed, too, and after awhile we fell into a calm silence. Out of this silence, he said,

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"You promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise. What is it?"

He grabbed my hand again and held it, squeezing my fingers hard enough to hurt. He looked away from me and towards his window as he spoke.

"Okay. So the thing is, I like you. A lot. And I assume you like me?"

"You assume correctly, yes."

"Okay. Good. Uh, the thing is, what we just did, I don't just _do_. Do you get what I mean? Like, just liking someone is not enough for me to touch them like that, or even kiss them, you know?"

I nodded, although I really wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"Ok. So i guess what I'm saying is that, I like you, a lot, and want to do more things like this with you. But not just _this_. Like, go to the movies and get food and hang out at each other's houses and stuff, like we do now, but different."

"Different? How?", I asked, by now totally confused.

"I'm gay, you know. I mean I know you know that NOW but that's the first time I ever said that out-loud to another person. And, uh, I don't know what you are, I just know that you like me the same way I like you, but like, I don't know if you'd want to do any of this stuff with me outside of like, our houses, like in private. And there's something I want to ask you but I'm scared because you might say no or think I'm coming on too strong, or too fast."

His face had turned a dark red, and he was starting to stutter his words. All of a sudden it clicked on my head, what he was asking; and, although I had a thousand different worries in my head, my heart told me to beat him to the punch.

"Will you be my boyfriend?", I heard myself ask in a quiet voice.

He turned towards me, a depth of relief and emotion in his eyes that I couldn't recall ever having seen in another person before.

"Will you be _mine_?", he asked back, with a wavering smile.

I leaned into him and kissed him very softly on the lips. 

"I'm willing to give this a try if you are," I said.

He threw himself into me, his arms going around me in a hard hug. Then he pulled back, looked at my face and said, mock-suspiciously,

"You're not just saying that so that I'll jerk you off again?"

I nodded.

"You caught me. I am. I'm just using you, Hux."

He pushed me back down and kissed me again, growling slightly.

"That's okay, I'm using you, too. I've always wanted a sexy boyfriend to show off, like a trophy. Good looks and no brains."

"You think I'm good looking? Seriously?", I asked, genuinely surprised.

He leaned up on his elbows, resting them on my chest as he looked at me. "Of course I do. I mean, have you ever looked at yourself?"

"Uh, yeah. That's why I'm asking. Apparently we're not seeing the same person, here."

He raised himself off of me and sat up straight. "What I can't see, is whatever the fuck it is YOU see in ME."

Out in the hallway, we heard his dad leave his room. He paused by the front door and called "Bye, son," before slamming the front door behind him.

When we heard him pull out of the driveway, Hux turned to me, waiting for an answer to his last statement.

I took his hand and pulled him back down by me, so that we were laying face to face. I reached out and touched his cheek.

"I like being around you," I told him, softly. "I like that I can talk to you. I like that you're so clean. I like that you can cook. I like the way your eyebrows scrunch up when you're doing a math problem. I just, I dunno, I like you. That's it. So just accept it, buddy."

He closed his eyes and put his hand over my hand, which was still resting on his face.

"That's like, the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you."

"I want you to come over to dinner tomorrow night, at my house. Dad will be home by then, and I want to introduce you to both of my parents."

"What do you mean, introduce me?", he asked, nervously. "I mean, I already met your mom, didn't I?"

"Yeeeah, but this is different. That was as my friend. I want them to meet you as my boyfriend."

"What?!", he said, sitting up in a panic. "Are you sure, Ben? That's--that's such a big thing."

"I'm sure," I said, thinking of the almost-conversation I had had with my dad weeks ago, concerning this subject. "It's gonna be fine, trust me. And besides; you're not the only one who wants to show off a sexy, brainless boyfriend," I said playfully.

He laughed at that, and kissed me again. It was amazing, how quickly I was adjusting to the feeling of kissing him. And how good it felt. 

How _**right**_.

"What about Phasma? How will she take it? And your other friends? And the people at work! God, I never even thought of that! And what about--"

I put both hands on his face and pressed our foreheads together.

"You worry a lot, you know that? It'll be fine. Everything will be fine. In the meantime, in the _here_ , and the _now_ , we're all alone, and we're in love. So let's take advantage of the moment, okay?"

He nodded and started to kiss me, slowly, seriously.

And I smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

In truth, I didn't really know _what_ was going to happen, once we started telling people about us. I didn't know how the people in our lives were going to react, or the reception our new relationship would receive from those around us.

But in that moment, in that room, with my new boyfriend kissing my lips, I didn't quite care. I decided to take my own advice, and just focus on the here, and the now.

And, to be completely, totally honest: I don't think I'd ever felt happier in my entire life.


End file.
